


A certain sort of situation

by darkrogue1 (Lily_Haydee_Lohdisse)



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Book 2: Moon Over Soho, Ettersberg, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 19:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Haydee_Lohdisse/pseuds/darkrogue1
Summary: A snippet at the end of Moon over Soho. Peter asking the wrong question, once again.





	A certain sort of situation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [utrinque_paratus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/utrinque_paratus/gifts).



> For Utrinque-paratus, who inspired me with the post :  
> https://utrinque-paratus.tumblr.com/post/181461202936/definitely-not-an-alb-so-this-builds-on-this
> 
> and because Peter should think more before he speaks.
> 
> (I'm a lurker on tumblr, but I really enjoy your reaction posts :) )

One thing to know about policing, is that you are never finished with paperwork.   
  
While I was typing the case notes of the Dr. Moreau Strip Club for the mundane library, Nightingale came to the batcave. Upon seeing me, he paused, then asked if it was all right if he used the television. Of course I agreed.   
  
But then he went and sat right were Simone had just a few days ago, and I looked away to my notes, and asked the first related question which popped, to avoid dwelling too much on those thoughts.   
  
"So Bosnia, Rwanda, were those magically related in any way?"  
  
He looked at me, somewhat puzzled, before replacing the conversation. "Not that I know of, no. It is just that the qualified forensic pathologists have one of those experiences nowadays."  
  
' _Nowadays_ '. It is easy to forget sometimes, that my boss is way older than he looks.  
  
And then, because sometimes my tongue works faster than my brain, I wondered aloud : "What was your first experience with this sort of situation?"  
  
His eyes grew distant and somber, and instantly I knew I had once again said the wrong thing. Of course, from the war he had participated in, obviously.

With what he had told me earlier that week, I was expecting the name Ettersberg to come up, but, his eyes brimming with tears, the catch in his voice sent shivers up my spine - and not the good kind - as he spoke the name of the more famous and non magical equivalent.  
  
"Buchenwald."


End file.
